


They Say Don't Meet Your Heroes,Kevin

by Poseidont (Megalodont)



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Canada, F/M, Flashbacks, Français | French, High School, Kayfabe Compliant, Pictures, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 02:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10548178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megalodont/pseuds/Poseidont
Summary: 'The Real Kevin Owens' indeed.It makes him laugh despite Chris' stupid litany of how he 'created' Kevin. He can't stop looking at the picture and in his mind, he can hear teenage voices laughing.In his mind,he's sixteen again and he can hear you whisper"Merci,mon amour."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Let's take a moment to realize that I wrote this around a p i c t u r e.  
> Secondly,since I write all the dialogue in French,I'm writing some bits in English and some in French.

"Ladies and gentlemen,I give you--The Real Kevin Owens!"  
In the back, Kevin himself can't help but smile. He's not sure how Chris got that photo,but he knows it doesn't matter. Some part of him should be angry that his former best friend is exploiting an intimate moment of his life. He stared at the photo,the Y2J emblem glistening with a camera flash.  
'The Real Kevin Owens' indeed.  
It makes him laugh despite Chris' stupid litany of how he 'created' Kevin. He can't stop looking at the picture and in his mind, he can hear teenage voices laughing.  
In his mind,he's sixteen again and he can hear you whisper  
"Merci,mon amour."  
In his mind,he lives it all again.

 

<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>

Nights in Marieville were always long. It was barely eight pm but it was already dark outside. And,since it was eight o'clock,that meant you and Kevin were down in his parents basement watching wrestling. It's a time-honoured tradition. At the moment, you were both watching anxiously as your idol Chris Jericho slugged it out with Triple H. With baited breath,you're forking back popcorn in ferverent excitement.  
"Chris has got to win." Kevin said anxiously. "He's just got to!"  
"I know!" Your hand is clasped with his in desperation,you both watch as the referee was counting dangerously close to ten. As the ten count hits,the bowl of popcorn was unceremoniously dumped as you both got your feet in boo's and howls of protest.  
"Tabernac!"  
After a few more moments of cussing out Triple H on screen,you both resumed your seats on the couch.  
Suddenly,the basement door opened and Kevin looked a little curious.  
" {Y/N}!"His mother called.  
"Oui?" You replied.  
"Your mother just telephoned, she said that you can stay here for the night,the storm is making it too hard to see."  
"Ok,Merci!" You smiled as you plucked a kernel of popcorn off of Kevin's shirt. You smiled at him,a curious look on his face.  
"What?"  
"Do the thing."  
"What thing?" He asked.  
"You know what thing you dork." You teased,reaching for your camera.  
"Don't you dare take a photo of me, {Y/N}!" He laughed,straightening his shirt as he stood.  
"I want something to remember this by!" You chuckled,watching him position himself,arms out,head bowed, the picture of forced seriousness on his face. Quickly, the camera flashed and he jerked up,slightly surprised that you actually took a photo.  
"Merci,mon amour." You whisper. He allowed you to set the camera down before tackling you onto the couch,kissing you brazenly.  
He always was a bit brazen.

<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>*<*>

It's Chris' ripping on the shirt that irritates him. It isn't just a shirt, it is a staple of his youth,his home,his love.  
That shirt,like a dear friend,had been with him and with you through just over fifteen years.  
He'd worn it when you first made love, in a hotel room in Ottawa on your high school graduation trip, seventeen years old.  
You were wearing it the first time he told you he loved you,snuggled up on the couch in his parents basement watching Raw.  
When he asked you to marry him in front of your parents house in Marieville,Quebec. He'd worn it and swore from that day on it gave him luck.  
Everytime they did shows in Quebec,you met him at the airport--wearing that shirt. You'd been wearing that same shirt when Kevin introduced you to your hero,your idol Chris Jericho and you cried for almost an hour,you were so happy.

It's these things and more that drive Kevin out to the ring,to powerbomb his former best friend into the mat. Kevin is sixteen again,positioned with his arms out and his head bowed. He smiles a little as he leaves the ring.  
He knows you saw,but he still has to call. In his mind he can see you curled on the couch in his shirt,the emblem flecked and tattered from years of use.  
"Did you see it?" He asks when you pick up.  
"Oui."You whisper sweetly.  
"That was for us--for everything." You smile,watching as they replay Kevin's reaction over again.  
"Merci, mon amour."


End file.
